


Maybe You're Not So Bad

by xseaxwitchx



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xseaxwitchx/pseuds/xseaxwitchx
Summary: Tim has allergies and is enjoying his blanket burrito, Damian drops by to say hi.





	Maybe You're Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first time writing fanfiction, but it is my first writing for the batfam. I hope I grasped Tim and Damian well enough; I like to believe I did. I also have a tumblr; come say hi!

The leaves on the grounds of the manor were turning enchanting shades of reds, browns, golds, oranges, earthy colors that tell autumn was here. The soft cold breeze swept the leaves from the yard and rustled them a bit, breathing life into the otherwise lifeless things. The weather was perfect for those medium jackets that aren’t too heavy but not light either; for scarves of either fashion or practicality; for warm apple cider and tractor rides through a hayfield. **  
**

The weather was also perfect for runny noses, puffy eyes, and wishing to breathe properly again.

And let’s not forget bundling up in blankets and sweaters. Which was Tim’s current state.

Unfortunately, he suffers those pesky seasonal allergies. Fortunately, he didn’t need much convincing to stay home from patrol that night either. The allergies were in its early stages, so he was suffering and would be too distracted by sneezing every five minutes and needing to wipe his nose afterward. Which would lead to a raw nose from the friction of his gloves from his uniform. Which was no bueno in his book.

Presently, Tim was stationed on the couch in the living room by a roaring fire Alfred put on to stave away the biting chill of the cold Gotham autumn evening. Tim was leaning against one of the arms of one of the couches, curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a tissue box beside him, a wastebasket on his other side, and his laptop seated on the coffee table in front of him, plugged into an outlet on the wall so he wouldn’t have to move in the future when the battery gets low. Of course, Tim wouldn’t be Tim unless his laptop was surrounded by empty coffee mugs, but because Alfred was bringing Tim drinks, the mugs were devoid of tea, not coffee.

Blankly, Tim stared at his computer screen for what felt like a split second to him, but in actuality had been three minutes. He was on Youtube watching ridiculous videos to make himself feel better or at the very least distract him.

He startled back into focus when Alfred came into the living room to clear away the four mugs around Tim’s laptop. “I apologize for startling you, Master Timothy,” stated Alfred.

Tim stared at him for a second before running a hand through his raven hair, ruffling it a little, thereafter responding, “No need to apolo-olo-,” a yawn interrupted his response, “-ologize, Alfred. I was just, uh, zoning out, I guess.”

Alfred graced Tim with one of his signature eyebrow raises before leaving the teen to his own business. Tim, albeit mourning the warmth of the blanket, reached out his hand to scroll through the videos on the right of the screen, trying to find a cat fail compilation. Why didn’t he move the coffee table closer to the couch?

Once he selected a video, he clicked the full-screen button, then leaned into his blanket cocoon, rearranging the blanket a bit to cover his feet so only his head could be seen.

Not even a minute later, Tim sneezed three times in a row, feeling his nose running. He sighed grievously, pulled an arm out of the blanket and reached towards the tissue next to him.

Only to find it wasn’t there.

He furrowed his brows when he felt the fabric of sweatpants and jumped a little when his eyes settled on Damian. Tim went to dramatically clutch his heart as Damian lifted one of his brows.

“You honestly didn’t see me walk into the room? With the doorway in your direct line of sight? Not even heard the couch creak slightly? Tt, you disappoint me, Drake,” Damian said rather incredulously.

Tim was used to comments like the last one coming from Damian, but it didn’t hold the venom it usually does. Tim noted the exhaustion weaved into Damian’s words.

“Hmph,” Tim responded. “Patrol harder than normal for any reason?” Tim asked as he went to pause the cat video with the already-free hand.

“Patrol wasn’t particularly  _harder_ , just more of them than normal out tonight,” answered Damian, suppressing a yawn.

“Wouldn’t that be suspicious to Bruce?”

“What do you think my father is doing in the cave currently?”

“I should’ve seen that coming.”

“Always the unobservant one, Drake.”

“I’ve saved your ass before because  _you_ were being unobservant multiple times.”

“Believe what you want.”

“Why are you here, anyway, instead of, you know, your own room? Or the Batcave?”

“Because I can and I will.”

During the exchange, neither of them noticed that Damian scooted closer to Tim, practically on top of him, until it fell silent once more. Tim, though, noticed for the first time in weeks the bags that were starting to form under Damian’s eyes; bags that should not be present on a 13-year-old’s face–he should’ve had about another two years ‘til that type of thing started to appear on his skin. Tim observed the shadows dancing across Damian’s face as Damian reached over to press the spacebar on Tim’s laptop to continue the video.

Damian leaned back, his right side flush with Tim and his blanket. Tim rubbed at his eyes before yawning and tucking his hand back into his cocoon of warmth. Struggling to keep his eyes open despite the cats’ meowing from the laptop and Damian’s little snorts, Tim leaned against Damian, Tim’s head falling snuggly on top of Damian’s.

Damian was about to say something until he realized that Tim’s breathing evened out, mouth open of course, then decided to let his elder brother sleep. He paused the video, shutting the laptop down and closing it. Damian leaned back again, his full body weight against Tim so they were essentially propping each other up.

Damian cuddled into Tim’s side, getting as warm as possible between his brother’s body heat and the heat of the fire in the fireplace. He closed his eyes, trying his best to sleep, but something felt off.

He gently pushed Tim back to leaning on the armrest, earning himself a small whine from the older boy; Damian rolled his eyes but curved his mouth slightly with brotherly fondness. He wouldn’t dare say love because he honestly doesn’t know if he can admit it to himself that he loves this brother in front of him without feeling the bite of guilt. Does Tim love him back? Would he even try? Would he ever get the chance to make him feel welcomed into the family with open arms?

Purging those thoughts from his mind, Damian urged the sleeping Tim to open the blanket cocoon. Tim complied, a slight shiver visible to the naked eye. Damian quickly grabbed the other blanket that was hanging on the back of the couch and climbed into Tim’s lap, positioning himself so his right leg was underneath Tim’s left and his right leg above Tim’s left, leaving enough room to curl in on himself and lay his head against Tim’s chest, listening to Tim’s steady breathing as he covered himself and Tim with the aforementioned blanket.

Eyes closed, he steadied his own breathing, inhaling and exhaling through his nose, feeling himself to be calmer and, oddly, safer, as Tim wrapped himself tighter around the new source of warmth, a gentle sigh of exhaustion leaving Tim’s lips.

Now, nothing was off; everything was right. And maybe, just maybe, Damian might admit to himself that he loves Tim, his brother.


End file.
